


Chemistry

by ChrisCalledMeSweetie



Series: Chemistry [1]
Category: Glee, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - American High School, Comedy, Drama, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Romance, TV fusion, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCalledMeSweetie/pseuds/ChrisCalledMeSweetie
Summary: Sherlock and Molly are the only two members of the Chemistry Club at McKinley High School. Their coach, Lestrade, is having an affair with Principal Mycroft. Jim Moriarty — coach of the Fruit Loops — is sending in his head cheerleader, Irene, as a spy. And John goes to a rival school, so he and Sherlock haven’t met yet, but you can bet that when they do there’s going to be… Chemistry.This is a fusion of Sherlock and Glee, written for the Miniseries April challenge.  The setting and the plot are based on Glee, while all of the characters are from Sherlock.  Enjoy!





	1. Never Been Kissed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaisyFairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFairy/gifts).



> Although this story is mostly fluffy, it does contain a few scenes that might be triggering for some readers. If you've watched the Glee episode Never Been Kissed, you probably already know what I'm referring to. I don't want to include spoilers here, but feel free to email me - chriscalledmesweetie@gmail.com - if you'd like details.

RAPID-FIRE VOICEOVER:  _So here’s what you missed on_ ** _Chemistry_** _:  Lestrade is coaching the Chemistry Club, but Sherlock and Molly are the only two members ‘cause it’s super uncool.  Molly has a crush on Sherlock, but he’s gay, so that’s just awkward.  Sherlock’s parents are dead, so he lives with Mrs. Hudson, who’s a total badass and definitely not his housekeeper.  Lestrade’s having an affair with Principal Mycroft, who keeps promising to find money in the budget for new lab equipment, but Mycroft’s being blackmailed by Moriarty — coach of the Fruit Loops — who is planning to destroy the Chemistry Club by sending in his head cheerleader, Irene, as a spy.  Oh, and John goes to a rival school, so he and Sherlock haven’t met yet, but you can bet that when they do, there’s going to be…_ ** _Chemistry_** _._    

 

…

 

“Hey — loser!”

 

Sherlock turns reflexively, and Magnussen tosses a slushie directly into his face.  It’s like getting bitch-slapped by an iceberg.  Sherlock’s hands fly up to his stinging eyes.

 

“Maybe your little Chemistry Club can figure out what that’s made of,” Magnussen taunts.  He and the other jocks laugh as they saunter off down the halls of McKinley High School.

 

Molly quickly steers Sherlock into the girls’ restroom.  She flutters around, cleaning him up, as Sherlock licks the slushie off of his lips.

 

“Water, high-fructose corn syrup, artificial flavor, and red dye number 40,” he says.  “I’ll need to take a sample to the lab to determine the exact chemical composition of the artificial flavor, though.”

 

…

 

“What happened?” Lestrade asks, as Molly and a red-stained Sherlock enter the chemistry lab.

 

“Magnussen,” Molly says.  

 

“I’ll have a word with Principal Mycroft about him,” Lestrade says.

 

Sherlock shoots him a knowing look.  Lestrade flushes and changes the subject.

 

“We have a new member joining our club today.  Please welcome Irene Adler to New Directions in Chemistry.”

 

A beautiful girl steps up next to Lestrade.  “I didn’t realize this club was called Nude Erections,” she says.  “I’m afraid I may not have the equipment you’re looking for with me today.  Don’t worry, though.  I’ve got a whole collection of strap-ons at home.  I’ll bring one tomorrow.”

 

Molly blushes as red as the slushie staining Sherlock’s shirt.  Irene winks at her.

 

“New. Di. Rec. Tions,” Lestrade says, enunciating each syllable carefully.  “We like to think of ourselves as innovators in the field of chemistry.”

 

“Oh, I can be very innovative,” Irene says suggestively, giving Molly a grin that makes her squeak and hide her face in Sherlock’s shoulder.

 

Sherlock looks from Molly to Irene and back again.  For once in his life, he is speechless.

 

…

 

“I’m in,” Irene says to Moriarty.  “And I flirted with all three of them, just like you told me to.  By the end of the afternoon, I had them so shaken up they couldn’t tell a Bunsen burner from an Erlenmeyer flask.” 

 

“It’s a good start,” the cheerleading coach says.  “But I will not be satisfied until you burn the heart out of the Chemistry Club and they all spontaneously combust.  The Fruit Loops need a fog machine and two more confetti cannons.  The Nude Erections budget must be mine.”

 

“Just leave it to me,” Irene says.

 

…

 

By the next meeting of the New Directions, though, Sherlock has recovered his powers of deduction, which he turns in full force upon Irene.

 

“You joined this club in order to spy for Moriarty and solidify your place as captain of the Fruit Loops, but your plan has backfired,” he tells her.  “Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side.”

 

“Sentiment?  I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“You thought you could distract us all with your flirting, and for one afternoon you succeeded.  But you didn’t realize that you were going to fall for Molly in the process.  Now here you are again, but this time you’re the one who’s distracted from your goal.”

 

“And what goal would that be?” Irene asks.

 

“To destroy the Chemistry Club from within.  Well, you’ve brought about your own downfall, instead.  I imagine everyone thinks love is a mystery to me, but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive.  You were playing a silly game, and now you’ve lost.”

 

Irene glares at Sherlock, then glances over at Molly, who’s staring back with a half-terrified, half-hopeful expression.  Irene’s face softens into a smile. 

 

“No,” Irene says, walking over to take Molly’s hand, “I think I’ve won.”

 

…

 

Lestrade enters the lab, somewhat rumpled-looking and slightly out of breath.  “Sorry I’m late.  I had a meeting with Principal Mycroft about the funding we need for new equipment and supplies.”

 

“Equipment and supplies.  Riiiiight…” Sherlock says.

 

Lestrade clears his throat.  “Yes.  The local Chemistry Olympics are only six weeks away, and if we want to have any chance of winning, we need to get to work.”

 

“Have you found out who our competition is going to be?” Molly asks.

 

“We’re going to be facing the Nose It Alls from the Haverford School for Congenital Anosmiacs.”

 

Sherlock bursts out laughing.  

 

“What’s so funny?” Irene asks him.

 

“Congenital anosmiacs are people who were born without a sense of smell.  They’re going to be at a serious disadvantage.”

 

“Lets not get overconfident,” Lestrade warns.  “We don’t know anything about our other competitors, the Dalton Academy Nobels.” 

 

“Hmmm…” Sherlock says.  “Perhaps I should do a little reconnaissance.”

 

…

 

Sherlock is walking alone down the hall after school when Magnussen comes up and body-checks him into the lockers.  “Hey!” Sherlock yells.  “What is your problem?!”

 

“Were you sneaking a peek at my junk?” Magnussen demands.

 

“Oh, yeah — every straight guy’s nightmare: that all us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you.  Well guess what, ham-hock — you’re not my type.”

 

“That right?” Magnussen asks, taking a menacing step closer to Sherlock.

 

“Yeah.  I don’t dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are going to be bald by the time they’re 30.”

 

“Do _not_ push me, Holmes,” the hulking football player warns, fist clenched.

 

“You gonna hit me?  Do it.  Go ahead and hit me, ‘cause it’s not going to change who I am.  You can’t punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you,” Sherlock retorts.

 

“Get out of my face!” Magnussen yells.

 

Sherlock holds his ground.  “You are nothing but a scared little boy who can’t handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!”

 

Something in Magnussen snaps.  He grabs Sherlock’s face and forces their lips together.  

 

Sherlock freezes, horrified.  It takes him an agonizing moment to remember how his arms work so that he can shove his attacker away.  Magnussen stumbles back.  He slams his fist into the locker and then turns to hurry down the hall.  Sherlock stares after him, badly shaken.

 

…

 

Sherlock’s dark purple shirt stands out amidst the sea of navy blazers with red piping worn by the students of Dalton Academy.  He kicks himself for not having checked online to see if they had uniforms, but he’d been so rattled by what had happened with Magnussen the day before that he couldn’t think straight.  Well, nothing for it, now.

 

Sherlock observes each student who passes him on the stairs until he spots one whom he deduces to be a member of the Nobels.  The boy is shorter than he is, and a little older, with light hair and deep blue eyes.  Something draws Sherlock toward him — something more than the recognition that he’s part of the chemistry club at Dalton.

 

“Excuse me,” Sherlock says, a little breathless.  “Can I ask you a question?  I’m new here…”

 

The boy turns to him with an open smile, and holds out his hand.  “My name’s John.”

 

“Sherlock.”

 

The touch of John’s hand is electric.  Sherlock forgets all about spying on the competition.  He blurts out “Would you like to have coffee?”

 

“Oh, god, yes,” John says.  “Come on — I know a short cut out of here.”

 

John leads Sherlock by the hand through a blur of corridors.  Sherlock feels as if he’s running in slow motion, in a dream.  Nothing is clear except his need to keep hold of John.

 

Some incalculable time later, they are sitting across from each other at a small table, coffee cups untouched in front of them, and Sherlock is telling John _everything_.  About the New Directions.  About the bullying.  About being gay.  About what Magnussen did to him.  About the fact that he’d never been kissed before.  And John is listening, with a fierce compassion that brings tears to Sherlock’s eyes.

 

…

 

The next day, John accompanies Sherlock to McKinley High. 

 

“There he is,” Sherlock says, as Magnussen approaches them.

 

“Let me do the talking,” John says.  “I’ve got your back.”

 

“Hey, lady-boys,” Magnussen sneers.

 

“Sherlock and I would like to talk to you about something,” John says, unintimidated by the much larger boy.

 

“I’ve gotta go to class,” Magnussen says, pushing roughly past them.

 

“Sherlock told me what you did,” John calls after him.

 

Magnussen turns, all bravado.  “Oh yeah?  What’s that?”

 

“You kissed me,” Sherlock says.

 

Magnussen looks around anxiously, making sure no one heard.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“It seems like you might be a little confused,” John says.  

 

Magnussen shoves John up against the fence.  “Do not mess with me!  I will kill you both if you breathe a word of this!  _I.  Will.  Kill.  You._ ”  He punctuates each word with another shove.  Then he makes a shooting motion at Sherlock’s head before he rushes away. 

 

“Well, he’s not coming out any time soon,” John says.

 

Sherlock chuckles ruefully.

 

“Come on,” John tells him.  “Let me buy you lunch.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re a Sherlock fan who believes that representation matters, I highly recommend that you check out Glee. You’ll find multiple LGBT characters (yes, more than one for each letter in that acronym) as well as almost any other form of diversity you may be searching for. While the show is by no means perfect, if Sherlock S4 left a bad taste in your mouth, then Glee may be just the refreshing palate cleanser you need.
> 
> For those of you who’ve never watched Glee, I’d suggest starting with either season 1, episode 4 (which made me fall in love with Kurt Hummel, on whom the Sherlock in this fusion is based) or season 2, episode 6 (on which this first chapter of Chemistry is based). All six seasons of Glee are available on Netflix.
> 
> If you’re coming at this from the other side, as a Glee fan, I’d recommend watching the unaired pilot (otherwise known as the Gay Pilot) of Sherlock. You can find it at https://vimeo.com/91507128.
> 
> New episodes of Chemistry will air every Saturday. Tune in next week for chapter 2 - Sex Education.
> 
> In the meantime, please leave comments and kudos. :)


	2. Sex Education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John prompts Mrs. Hudson to have “The Talk” with Sherlock, while Molly and Irene engage in a bit of independent study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fabulous new cover art is by the brilliant Breath4Soul.

 

RAPID-FIRE VOICEOVER:  _So here’s what you missed on_ ** _Chemistry_** _:  John convinced Sherlock to tell Mrs. Hudson about Magnussen kissing him and threatening to kill him.  Mrs. Hudson went into full-on mama bear mode and insisted that Principal Mycroft expel Magnussen, but Moriarty decided this was his chance to destroy the Chemistry Club, so he threatened to leak an explicit video he’d secretly made of Mycroft and Lestrade in some highly compromising positions unless Mycroft let Magnussen off with a warning, which he did.  So Mrs. Hudson transferred Sherlock to Dalton Academy, where he’s now a member of the Nobels.  With John, who’s still just a friend, for now…_ And that’s what you missed on **_Chemistry_** _._

 

…

 

“I miss Sherlock,” Molly says.  

 

“I’ll bet I can make you forget all about him,” Irene coos, sliding her hand up Molly’s thigh.

 

Lestrade clears his throat uncomfortably.  “Let’s try to stay focused on chemistry, girls.”

 

“Oh, Molly and I have great chemistry,” Irene tells him saucily.

 

“Well, how about you turn that passion towards preparing for the Chemistry Olympics, okay?  Locals are just around the corner, and now that Sherlock has joined the Dalton Academy Nobels, we’ll have to work twice as hard to beat them.”

 

“I’m not worried,” Irene says.  “If you think Molly and I distract each other from studying, I’ll bet Sherlock and John are twice as bad.  It’s the _unresolved_ sexual tension that’s the worst.  At least  Molly and I know we’ll be getting our lady-lovin’ on after school.  But Sherlock and John haven’t even admitted that they’re into each other, and I’m sure it’s driving them both absolutely insane.”    

 

…

 

Meanwhile, at Dalton Academy, Sherlock is having a bit of a sexual identity crisis.  

 

“I don’t even know why Magnussen kissed me,” he tells John.  “I have as much sexual appeal and knowledge as a baby pengwing.”   

 

“Sherlock, you’re blushing.”

 

“I’m supposed to be a genius, but I don’t know the first thing about sex.  I’ve tried watching _those_ movies, but I just get horribly depressed, and I think about how they were all kids once, and they all have mothers.  And god, what would their mothers think?  And what would mine think, if she were alive, and knew what I was watching?”

 

“Well, then maybe we should have a conversation about it.  I’ll tell you what I know…”

 

“No.  I don’t want to know the graphic details.  I pretend I’m immune to sentiment, but the shameful truth is…  I like romance.  That’s why I like old movies and Broadway musicals — because the touch of fingertips is as sexy as it gets.”

 

“Sherlock, you’re going to have to learn about it someday.”

 

“Well, not today.  I think you should leave.”

 

Reluctantly, John goes.

 

…

 

John stops by Mrs. Hudson’s bakery at a time he knows Sherlock will be over at Molly’s house.  Mrs. Hudson greets him warmly.

 

“Would you like a muffin?  I just pulled these out of the oven.”

 

“No, thank you.  I wanted to talk to you about Sherlock.”

 

“Is he okay?”

 

John nods.  Then he steels himself and asks, “Have you ever talked to him about… sex?”

 

“Are you gay? Or straight? Or what?” Mrs. Hudson asks.

 

“Or what,” John says with a laugh.  “I’m bisexual.”

 

“Good for you.  I mean, good for Sherlock.  He needs someone like you to talk to.”

 

“I’ve tried talking to him, but he basically puts his fingers in his ears and tells me to go away.”

 

“Well, when he’s ready, he’ll listen.”

 

“I’m worried that by then it might be too late.  You know, Dalton doesn’t even have sex ed classes.  Most schools don’t.  And the ones that do almost never discuss what sex is like for gay kids.”

 

Mrs. Hudson makes a tsking noise.

 

John continues, “Sherlock is the most amazing person I’ve ever met.  And I know he lost his parents when he was young, but I’m blown away by the relationship he has with you.”

 

“Did your parents talk to you about this kind of stuff?” Mrs. Hudson asks.

 

“No.  I had to find out for myself.  The internet is great, and all the information is out there, but I went searching for it.  Sherlock won’t.  And one day, he’ll be at a party, maybe have a few drinks, and he’ll meet some guy, and start fooling around, and he’s not going to know about using protection, or STDs…”

 

Mrs. Hudson looks concerned.

 

“I don’t have the relationship with my parents that you have with Sherlock,” John says.  “I think it would be really cool if you took advantage of it.  I’m sorry if I’m overstepping…”  

 

“You are,” Mrs. Hudson tells him.  But she smiles, and pats him on the back, and gives him a muffin to take home.    

 

…

 

Mrs. Hudson drops a handful of papers on the kitchen table.  Sherlock eyes them with alarm.

 

“What are those?”

 

“Some pamphlets I picked up at the free clinic.  I thought they might help the process along, because it is time you and I had _the talk_.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Sherlock says hurriedly.

 

“Yes, it is,” Mrs. Hudson insists.  She takes Sherlock by the shoulders and steers him onto one of the kitchen chairs.  

 

“Now, most of the mechanics of what you’re going to be doing is covered in the pamphlets,” Mrs. Hudson says, passing the stack of papers to Sherlock.  “So I want you to read them, and then I want you to come talk to me about it.”

 

“Fine,” Sherlock says, looking acutely uncomfortable.  He grabs the pamphlets and rises to leave the table.

 

“Sit down,” Mrs. Hudson commands.  “We’re just getting started.”

 

Sherlock rolls his eyes, but complies.

 

“Now, for most men, sex is just this thing that they always want to do.  You know, it’s fun, it feels great, but they’re not really thinking too much about how it makes them feel on the inside, or how the other person feels about it.”

 

“Women are different?” Sherlock asks.

 

“Only because we get that it’s about something more than just the physical.  When you’re intimate with somebody… in that way… you’re exposing yourself.  You’re never going to be more vulnerable.  And that scares the hell out of a lot of men.  I can’t tell you how many men I know who’ve gotten in way too deep with a woman who said she was cool with just hooking up…”

 

“But that’s not going to happen to _me_ , Mrs. Hudson.”

 

“No.  It’s going to be worse.  Because it’s two men.  With two men, you’ve got _two_ people who think that sex is just sex.  It’s going to be easier to come by.  And once you start doing this stuff, you aren’t going to want to stop.”

 

Mrs. Hudson pauses, and takes Sherlock’s hand across the table.  Then she continues, “You just have to know that it means something.  That it’s doing something.  To you.  To your heart.  To your self-esteem.  Even though it feels like you’re just having fun.”

 

“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t have sex?”

 

“I think, on your thirtieth birthday, it would be a great gift to yourself,” Mrs. Hudson teases.

 

Sherlock gives her a small smile.

 

Mrs. Hudson makes sure she has his full attention before saying, “When you’re ready, I want you to be able to do everything.  But, when you’re ready, I want you to use it as a way to connect to another person.  Don’t throw yourself around, like you don’t matter.  Because you matter, Sherlock.” 

 

…

 

 At McKinley High School, the New Directions (aka Mollrene) have been busy preparing for the local Chemistry Olympics — along with other extra-curricular activities…

 

At Dalton Academy, however, the Nobels are not likely to be winning any peace prizes.  It’s not that Sherlock is deliberately trying to stir up trouble; it’s just that he can’t help deducing all manner of embarrassing information about the other members of the group, and he hasn’t developed a filter between his brain and his mouth.  His rapid-fire analysis of his teammates is met with:

 

“Piss off!”

 

“Shut up!” 

 

“Fuck you!”

 

“I’m outta here!”

 

“Why should we stay and listen to this?  Let’s _all_ go!”

 

And then, when there’s no one left in the chemistry lab except Sherlock and John, there’s one quiet “That was amazing.”

 

“You think so?” Sherlock asks, surprised.

 

“Of course it was.  It was extraordinary.  It was quite extraordinary.”

 

“That’s not what people normally say.”

 

“I noticed,” John chuckles.  He pauses for a moment, then asks, “Would you like to be my lab partner?”

 

Sherlock beams at him.  “Yes.”

 

…

 

Sherlock is alone in the lab, after hours, when John comes in.

 

“What’re you doing?” John asks.

 

“I’m analyzing different types of tobacco ash,” Sherlock says.

 

“Well, finish up.  I found out that one of our challenges at the Chemistry Olympics is going to involve thin layer chromatography, and we should practice.”

 

Sherlock gives John a searching look.  “Why did you pick me to be your lab partner?”

 

John licks his lips.  He pauses, gathering his courage, then says, “Sherlock, there is a moment when you say to yourself _‘Oh, there you are — I’ve been looking for you forever…’_ Watching you deduce all the Nobels… that was the moment, for me… about you.  You move me, Sherlock.  And being lab partners would just be an excuse to spend more time with you.” 

 

Sherlock’s mouth falls open.  John leans in, placing one hand on Sherlock’s cheek, and kisses him.  There is nothing tentative or chaste about this kiss; John kisses like he means it.  

 

Sherlock gasps.  His hand spasms, then comes up to cup John’s face.  He kisses back with all of the passion he’s so long denied himself.  

 

By the time John pulls away, they’re both panting.  John drops his head in his hand, embarrassed by how forward he’s been, and how turned on he is.  “We should practice,” he says.

 

Sherlock catches his breath and gazes at John with a gleam in his eyes.  “I thought we were.”

 

Seconds later, they are kissing again.

 

…

 

On the morning of the local Chemistry Olympics, John and Sherlock are not at their best.  They were up late the night before — and many nights before that — making out, and they’re bleary-eyed from lack of sleep.  They barely notice as Irene and Molly skip up to them, holding hands.

 

“Where are the rest of the Nobels?” Irene asks.

 

“They quit,” Sherlock says.  “They couldn’t stand the pressure.”

 

“More like they couldn’t stand the deductions,” John stage whispers to her.

 

Molly and Irene giggle.  

 

“So, it’s just the two of you?” Molly asks.

 

“Yep.  And are you the only two here from McKinley?”

 

“Yeah.  Ever since Sherlock left, we’re the only Nude Erections left,” Irene says.  Then, with a smirk, she adds, “Except in the boys’ locker room…”

 

Molly tugs on her hand.  “Come on — we need to go register.”

 

The four of them head to the registration table, where they size up their competition.  The Nose It Alls are a girl and two boys with snooty expressions.  

 

“Don’t worry — we can take them,” Irene says.

 

…

 

The trouble with staying up all night making out the night before a competition is that it’s easy to miss a decimal point.  John accidentally adds 10 ml rather than 1.0 ml of hydrochloric acid to their test tube.  The resulting explosion is spectacular.  The judges, however, are not impressed.

 

The New Directions take home the first place trophy, as well as the coveted invitation to the National Chemistry Olympics.  Sherlock and John congratulate Molly and Irene with as good a grace as they can muster.

 

Once they are alone, though, Sherlock turns to John, looking sad, and a little lost.  “I really, really wanted to win,” he admits.

 

“You did win,” John says.  “And so did I.  We got each other out of all of this.  That beats a lousy trophy, don’t you think?”

 

Sherlock smiles, and takes John’s hand.  Together, they walk away from the lab.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back when I was in high school, I may have missed a decimal point while participating in the Chemistry Olympics at Carnegie Mellon University. Unfortunately, it was not due to staying up late making out with my lab partner, although I did have a crush on her...
> 
> Have I converted any of you Sherlock fans to the joys of Glee? This chapter was based on season 2, episodes 15 and 16, if you want to check them out. To whet your appetite, here's a first kiss gif:
> 
> And if that's not worth some comments and kudos, I don't know what you people want from me! ;)


	3. The First Time

RAPID-FIRE VOICEOVER:  _So here’s what you missed on_ ** _Chemistry_** _:  Sherlock transferred to Dalton Academy because Magnussen threatened to kill him, but then somebody (and no one will ever be able to prove it was Irene) poisoned Magnussen with an untraceable chemical compound, and he died, so Sherlock came back to McKinley to rejoin the New Directions just in time for the National Chemistry Olympics.  And of course John transferred with him, because the two of them are inseparable.  Moriarty choreographed a cheerleading routine that involved shooting Irene out of a cannon, so she quit the Fruit Loops, and now Moriarty is more determined than ever to sabotage the Chemistry Club.  Oh, and Lestrade and Principal Mycroft are still going at each other like sex-crazed rabbits._ And that’s what you missed on **_Chemistry_** _._

 

…

 

Without Irene’s star power, the Fruit Loops lose the National Cheerleading Championship.

 

Moriarty is, in his own words, “horny with rage.”  Friday night finds him in Lima Heights Adjacent, sticking his head under a bridge and yelling, “Hey!  How’s that homelessness working out for you?  Not so great?  I could hook you up with a place to stay and some high-paying work if you don’t mind breaking a few laws.”

 

On Monday morning, Lestrade walks into the chemistry lab to find half a dozen homeless men cooking meth.  He questions them and then sends them packing before heading to Principal Mycroft’s office.  Moriarty is already there, grinning like the maniac he is.

 

“Lestrade,” Moriarty says gleefully, “I was just telling Principal Mycroft that your students seem to have set up a meth lab right under your nose.  Clearly, the Nude Erections must be disbanded at once, and the members shipped off to maximum security juvenile detention facilities.”

 

“That wasn’t my students — that was you!”

 

“You can’t prove anything.”

 

“You paid them by check,” Lestrade says, waving the evidence in front of him.

 

“My checkbook was stolen.”

 

“Your signature is on the checks.”

 

“Obviously a forgery.”

 

“The cameras outside the school show you ushering six homeless men into the building after hours,” Principal Mycroft says.

 

“That footage must have been doctored.”

 

“Enough!” Mycroft says.  “Moriarty, you’re fired.”

 

“Oh really?  I think you’re forgetting a little sex tape that just might find its way online…”

 

“ _That?_   Greg and I uploaded it to youtube ourselves yesterday.  It already has over 8,000 likes.  We’re internet famous.”

 

Mycroft and Lestrade exchange a smug look.  Moriarty flounces out of the office.

 

“So, does this mean there’s money in the budget now for the new lab equipment I need?” Lestrade asks.

 

“Anything you want.”

 

…

 

Sherlock lies sprawled across his bed as John dances to an old Roxy Music song.  

 

“Do you think I’m boring?” Sherlock asks.

 

“Are you crazy?  You’re the single most interesting person in all of Ohio.”

 

Sherlock sits up.  “I mean, like, sexually,” he clarifies.  “We are playing it very safe by not granting our hands visas to travel south of the equator…”

 

“I thought that’s what we wanted,” John says.

 

“It is…  I’m just wondering…  Have you ever had the urge just to rip off each other’s clothes and get dirty?”

 

“Uh, yeah.  But that’s why they invented masturbation,” John says nonchalantly, continuing to dance around the room.

 

Sherlock fans himself nervously.  “It’s getting hot in here.  Can we open up a window?”

 

“I’m serious,” John says, joining him on the bed.  “We’re young, we’re in high school, and yeah, we have urges.  But whatever we do, I want to make sure that you’re comfortable.  So that I can be comfortable.”

 

John places a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, and Sherlock leans into the touch.  

 

“And anyway,” John teases, “tearing off all of your clothes is sort of a tall order.”

 

“Because of the buttons?”

 

“Because of the buttons,” John agrees. 

 

They giggle, the tension evaporates, and they kiss.

 

…

 

The National Chemistry Olympics are being held in Chicago.  When the New Directions arrive at the hotel with their two chaperones — Lestrade and Principal Mycroft — there is a bit of an issue over the rooms.

 

“I have you down for three doubles,” the concierge says, handing Lestrade their key cards.  “Enjoy your stay.”

 

“Irene and Molly, you’re in 69.  Sherlock and John, you’re in 221,” Lestrade says.  “Principal Mycroft and I will be in 305 if you need anything.”

 

“Hold on,” Mycroft says.  “I don’t think it’s appropriate to allow teenage couples to share a room on a school trip.  Perhaps the students should stay in single rooms.”

 

“I’m sorry,” the concierge says, “but we’re completely booked up.”

 

“Well, then, we’ll have to reshuffle the sleeping arrangements.  Molly can share with Sherlock, and —”

 

“You can’t make me share a room with Sherlock,” Molly interrupts.  “I used to have a crush on him.”

 

“And she can’t share with me,” says John.  “I’m bisexual.  Who knows what might happen.”

 

Irene glares at him, but Molly plays along.  “Right.  And I’m pansexual, so I could have sex with literally anyone.  I can’t be trusted with either of the boys, ‘cause I might end up pregnant.  So they’ll have to room with each other, and I’ll have to stay with Irene.”

 

Mycroft opens his mouth to object, but Sherlock jumps in, saying, “I’m sure none of _us_ will be posting youtube videos featuring our exploits tonight, so perhaps you should drop this.”

 

Mycroft wisely closes his mouth and follows Lestrade to the elevator.

 

…

 

“Look what I got for us,” Irene says.

 

John stares at the cards in her hand.  “Are those fake IDs?”

 

“Yeah.  You’re Blaine Anderson, Sherlock is Kurt Hummel, Molly’s Brittany Pierce, and I’m Santana Lopez.”

 

Sherlock looks doubtful.  “You think anyone’s going to believe that your name is Santana Lopez?”

 

“You somehow manage to convince people that your name is Sherlock.”

 

“Touché.”

 

“So what are these for?” Molly asks.

 

“There’s a gay bar a couple of blocks away.  We’re going clubbing!”

 

…

 

The bouncer at Scandals barely glances at their fake IDs before ushering them inside.  “Enjoy,” he says unenthusiastically.  “It’s drag queen night.”

 

Molly, Irene, John, and Sherlock step through the door and look around.  “It doesn’t seem very scandalous,” Molly says.

 

“Au contraire,” Irene responds.  “Look at all the glamorous drag queens.”  She points them out with a flourish.  “There’s Cher, and Tina Turner, and…  is that Lucy? Or Reba?”

 

“That is Ginger, from Gilligan’s Island,” Molly says.

 

The girls break into fits of giggles, and skip off together to the dance floor.

 

“Let’s get something to drink,” John says.

 

“We have a competition tomorrow morning,” Sherlock reminds him.  “I’m sticking to water.”

 

“Suit yourself,” John says.  “One beer won’t hurt me.”  

 

…

 

“This is the best night of my life,” John slurs, staggering down the street with one arm around Sherlock.  “I wanna live here.  I wanna live here, and go dancing, and help people…”

 

“You could certainly help people make fires with your breath,” Sherlock says, holding John up as they make their way back to the hotel.

 

“Oh, come on.  I only had a few beers,” John says.  His words are belied by the fact that he can’t figure out how to use the revolving door into the hotel lobby.

 

Sherlock steers John to the elevator, unwilling to risk the stairs.  Once they’re safely in their room, John pushes Sherlock up against the wall.  “Kiss me,” he says.

 

Sherlock wriggles out of his grasp, still keeping one arm around John to prevent him from face-planting into the carpet.  “No, no.  Come on, you need some sleep.”

 

Sherlock guides John to the bed.  John flops down, dragging Sherlock with him.  Suddenly his hands are everywhere.

 

“Come on, Sherlock.  Let’s just do it.  I want you.  _I want you so bad_.”

 

“No,” Sherlock says, trying to extricate himself from John’s grasp.  John clings to him, kissing his neck.  “No!” Sherlock says again, more forcefully.  “Stop it!”

 

“Look, I know you wanted to wait to do it in a field of lilacs, with Sting playing in the background, and all that, but who cares where we are — it’s all about us, right?”

 

“Right.  It’s about _us_.  Which is why I don’t want our first time to be on a night that you spent half of dancing with other people.  And I want you to be sober enough to remember it the next day!”  

 

“Why are you yelling at me?” John asks, bewildered.

 

“Because I have never felt _less_ like being intimate with someone, and either you can’t tell, or you just don’t care!”

 

Sherlock grabs a pillow and heads for the en suite bathroom, locking himself inside.  He curls up in the tub and cries himself to sleep.

 

…

 

The New Directions are a sorry sight as they head into the National Chemistry Olympics the next morning.  John and Molly are so hung over that their eyes are squinted shut against the light, and they flinch at every noise.  Irene appears to still be drunk.  And Sherlock is stiff, angry, and silent.  Lestrade tries to give them a pep talk, but John and Molly put their hands over their ears, and Irene just fiddles with the zipper on her dress, which she’s wearing inside out.  

 

“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Sherlock says.  “The only way we’re going to win this thing is if you all just stand still, shut up, and don’t touch anything.”

 

No one argues with him.

 

They are facing some fierce competition — especially from Test Tube Adrenaline, the reigning champions — but Sherlock is incandescently brilliant.  The others just sit back and watch in awe.  At the end of the day, the New Directions are declared the winners of the National Chemistry Olympics.

 

…

 

By the time the awards ceremony is over — with gold medals for Sherlock, John, Molly, and Irene, as well as a trophy for Lestrade to take back to McKinley — everyone’s feeling much better.  No one’s drunk, no one’s hung over, and it’s possible that no one is even angry anymore.

 

Sherlock and John linger behind after the others have left.  They’ve been avoiding eye contact all day, but now John looks directly at Sherlock and holds out his hand, saying, “Come here.”

 

Sherlock steps forward and takes John’s hand.  John interlaces their fingers and places them over Sherlock’s heart.  They gaze at each other wordlessly for a minute before John breaks the silence.

 

“Sherlock, you were right.  Our first time shouldn’t be like that.  I was drunk, and I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry, too,” Sherlock says.  “I wanted to be your gay bar superstar, but try as I might, I’m just a silly romantic.”

 

“It’s not silly,” John says.  He looks to Sherlock for permission before kissing him.

 

Sherlock kisses back hungrily.  His arms wrap tightly around John.  It’s a long time before he pulls back.

 

“You take my breath away,” Sherlock says.  “And not just now, but all the time.  You’re always saying I’m brilliant, but you are my conductor of light.”

 

There’s a hitch in John’s voice as he answers, “I hope so.  I want to be.”  Then, pulling himself together, he adds, “Molly and Irene invited us to go out with them to celebrate.  Would you be my date?”

 

“No,” Sherlock says.  John’s face falls, until Sherlock adds, “I want to go back to our room…”

 

…

 

Hours later, Sherlock and John lie entwined on the bed, cuddling in the afterglow.  John rubs his nose against Sherlock’s.  “I love you,” he says.

 

Sherlock’s face is soft and open and filled with wonder.  “I love you, too.”

 

“Do you remember the day we met?”

 

“Of course.  You took my hand…”

 

“Anyone who knows me will tell you that I’m not in the habit of taking people’s hands I’ve never met before.  But I think that my soul knew something that my body and my mind didn’t know, yet.  It knew that our hands were meant to hold each other — fearlessly and forever.”

 

John takes Sherlock’s hand in his and kisses each of his fingertips before continuing.  “Which is why it’s never really felt like I’ve been getting to know you; it’s always felt like I was remembering you from something.  As if in every lifetime that you and I have ever lived, we’ve chosen to come back, and find each other, and fall in love all over again.  Over and over, for all eternity.  And I just feel so lucky that I found you so soon in this lifetime.  Because you and I have this incredible…”  John nuzzles into Sherlock’s neck, voice trailing off.  

 

Sherlock finishes his thought: _“Chemistry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the conclusion of Chemistry, but not the end of the miniseries. Tune in next Saturday for "Behind the Chemistry" - an interview special with Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, the young actors who portrayed Sherlock and John.
> 
> Lavish praise and kudos keep me writing. :D


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